Chapter 11

Three days.

It took three days after Lurlinemas for Elphaba to get a text from Nessarose. The first text she'd gotten from her in months.

And Elphaba had picked up the phone so casually when it had vibrated. She'd assumed it was either Galinda or Boq texting her, because the only other person she typically got texts from was Fiyero. As he was sitting right beside her on the couch, it was unlikely to be him. But when Elphaba unlocked the phone and swept down on the notification to see her sister's name, she'd bolted upright so fast that she'd startled Fiyero.

"What is it? What's happened?" he asked.

"Nessa texted me," Elphaba said hoarsely, her throat dry.

Fiyero straightened, picking up the remote and pausing the episode of the show they'd been watching.

"Open it," he urged. "Or do you want some privacy?"

Elphaba shook her head, still staring at her phone. "It's okay," she said.

She couldn't quite bring herself to open the message. What if it was Nessa saying 'Don't contact me again'? Or what if it was her saying 'I miss you too'?

Fiyero's hand moved to clasp hers, squeezing her fingers gently. Elphaba braced herself, and clicked the message open.

'You too.'

That was all it said.

"You too," Elphaba read aloud hollowly. "You too… what? What does that mean?"

She scrolled up slightly to re-read the text she'd sent to Nessa.

'I hope you're all well, and that the children have a wonderful Lurlinemas. They deserve it. Please know that I'm thinking of them, and you. I love you, Nessie.'

"The phrase 'you too' could apply to any of this," she said, staring at the messages. "Which is it?Happy Lurlinemas to you too? I'm thinking of you too? I love you too? Why… why wouldn't she say anything else? She hasn't texted me in months. Other than returned parcels and that Lurlinemas card, there's been nothing. And now all I get is 'you too'?"

Her eyes were dry, but her chest wrenched painfully as though she was heaving with the sobs she'd stopped crying months ago. Her hand, still encased within Fiyero's, trembled fiercely and Fiyero gently took her phone from her and slipped it into the pocket at the front of his hoodie as he tugged her to her feet.

"Come on," he said softly. "Coat and shoes."

"Why?' Elphaba asked. "Where are we going?"

"Out."

If Elphaba had been in a better frame of mind, she would have commented on Fiyero's definition of "out" once they'd bundled up and left the house. Because apparently, Fiyero literally just meant "outside" and led her down the street aimlessly.

Elphaba huddled deep into her coat, Fiyero's hand a warm pressure on the small of her back. As they walked in silence, Elphaba studied the houses rather distantly. Most of them were large and while not picturesque in the way that some neighbourhoods were- where all houses looked alike and they were almost too orderly- it made Elphaba wonder what was happening within the walls. If her own childhood hadn't proved to her that a beautiful exterior and tasteful Lurlinemas décor could hide an ugliness from the view of passer-by's, her job certainly had.

She knew this was it now. She'd have to tell him everything, and deal with the pity that would inevitably follow. She couldn't use the excuse of not wanting to ruin the holidays now- as little as the day meant to her.

"There's a playground about a block away," Fiyero said quietly. "There's a little gazebo where we can sit. It's too cold for anyone else to be there."

Elphaba just nodded, mentally reciting her life story as if she were about to address Parliament. When she'd told Galinda, during their Shiz days, it had all come out in drips and drabs; the fragments left hanging in the air during late night talks in the dorm room, observed conversations between Elphaba and Nessarose, lore of Munchkinland history and gossip both spoken and unspoken between Elphaba, Nessarose and Boq. All laid out for Galinda to put together the story, and all Elphaba really had to do was confirm things. And then it had all blown up, and Elphaba had run. Or had she been exiled? In her mind, it differed from day to day.

As Fiyero had guessed, the playground was deserted.

"Grandad used to bring me and Kastle here when we visited as kids," Fiyero said, leading her towards the gazebo. "He'd sit here and read the paper or a book while we wore ourselves out on the playground equipment. That's where Kas pushed me off the monkey bars," he pointed. "I broke my arm and she got in so much trouble."

He sounded almost gleeful about that, and Elphaba snorted.

"I have so many questions about your childhood."

"Well, we can always trade off," Fiyero replied and then paused. "I mean-"

"It's okay," Elphaba cut him off wearily.

They sat themselves down on the bench that ran around the inside of the gazebo, and Elphaba sank back against the wrought iron railing, breathing deeply.

"I'm three and a half years older than Nessa," she began eventually. "Needless to say, my birth was kind of a shock to my parents. Green skin doesn't show up on an ultrasound."

Fiyero just nodded.

"I've been told there was all sorts of tests after I was born. For me, and for my parents. They ruled out anything genetic, but not even the best medical teams in Oz could work out what it was. The best guesses I've heard are some kind of genetic mutation, or an effect of something that my mother consumed while pregnant. But no one seems to know what. If my father knows, he never saw fit to tell me."

"Your mom died when Nessarose was born?" Fiyero asked quietly.

That fact was easy enough to know. It was mentioned in every article that mentioned the Governor and his family.

Elphaba scrunched up her face. "The rumours in Munchkinland say that my mom was so tired of medicine and tests by the time they decided to try for another baby that she only trusted alternative medicine. Or that they were so mad that the doctors they saw couldn't explain why I was green that they stopped trusting them. Or they just got bad advice from a doctor. I've heard the story that she was prescribed a medication that had essence of milkflowers in it; and I've heard other stories that it was an herbal tea that she was told to drink- to ensure that this new baby wasn't green."

"Milkflowers… my neighbour takes meds with milkflowers in it," Fiyero recalled suddenly. "For a heart arrythmia, I think."

Elphaba looked to him in surprise and he shrugged. "She's old, she lives alone. Sometimes I help her out by picking up her pills or groceries or something."

Elphaba smiled faintly. "Just when I think I know you, you surprise me," she said, and Fiyero shifted, ducking his head slightly and clearing his throat.

"So your mom took milkflowers in some form," he said, waving his hand.

Elphaba took the hint, but her smile faded. "Yes. Her death certificate says it was peripartum cardiomyopathy, but I… I honestly wouldn't put it past my father to make sure the official cause of death wasn't anything that could make it seem like his fault."

"Peripartum cardiomyopathy?"

"It's a condition that can happen during pregnancy," Elphaba explained. "The heart becomes enlarged and it can't pump blood correctly to the body. It weakens the heart."

She swallowed hard. "As far as I can tell, as soon as it was safe to deliver Nessa, they did so. Emergency c-section. But it didn't matter. It was too late. Mom died, and Nessa was born paralysed. My father sued the doctor after she died. He claimed that my mother was prescribed the wrong dose of the medication, so instead of strengthening her heart, it made it weaker. So maybe it was the meds, and not a tea. I don't know."

"And Nessarose?"

"Negligence during delivery seems to be anyone's best guess. It happens. Spinal injuries, brain injuries, nerve problems… I looked it up when I was in high school," Elphaba explained. "I wanted to know if my father was right. If it really was my fault."

Fiyero winced. "What happened with the lawsuit?"

"They settled. I don't know how much exactly. My father put the money all aside for Nessa. It paid for her university, and for her wedding. I have no idea if there's any left."

There was a bird perched atop the gazebo, or in a tree close by. Elphaba couldn't see it, but she could hear it.

"My father never talks about that time, really. All the photos and videos of my mom in the house were hidden or destroyed. The only thing I've ever heard him say is how much Nessarose reminds him of her and how proud she would be of her. And that if it weren't for me, Mom would be here and Nessa would be able to walk."

Fiyero's brow furrowed. "You said something… you said that emotional neglect doesn't leave bruises," he said carefully.

Elphaba nodded, adjusting her hat rather self-consciously. "He never hit me, Yero," she said softly. "He just… ignored me, for the most part. Until he needed to show me off, usually around election time. Because don't you want to vote for the Governor who makes the huge sacrifice of giving a damn about his weirdly green daughter? Despite the numerous people on social media who suggest that I should have been adopted out at birth. Or hidden away, or drowned."

Fiyero gaped at her. "People said that?"

"Never to my face. But I was five when I remember first reading the comments on an online article. I had to look up what 'abomination' meant."

Fiyero winced, but Elphaba just shrugged.

"Anyway, my childhood was nothing exciting. I didn't have any friends- because no one wanted to be friends with the weird green girl, and I spent it all caring for Nessa. She had a whole string of aides and nurses, but none of them lasted more than a few years. And Nessa hated them all, anyway. I didn't mind taking care of her."

She ignored Fiyero's scoff at that.

"My father wanted me to study in nursing or something like that so I had the qualifications to care for Nessa. And in some ways it made sense. No one in Munchkinland was going to be keen to hire me for anything; and if I ever mentioned leaving Munchkinland, they were very good at guilting me into deciding against it. I couldn't even go to university until Nessa was old enough to go with me. Because it wasn't fair to Nessa."

Fiyero stifled a wince. "So, how'd you end up in social work?"

Elphaba shrugged. "I needed something to fill a hole in my timetable, and I thought it seemed interesting. And from the first lecture, it just clicked. It all made sense. So, I switched majors. My father wasn't happy about it, but Nessa talked him around. It was the last time she was on my side."

Fiyero raised an eyebrow. "How did she convince him of that?"

Elphaba faltered. "I'd like to think it was that Nessa knew it would make me happy. That as much as I love her, spending the rest of my life taking care of her would make me miserable. But when everything fell apart, my father kept saying things that made me think it was some kind of consolation prize."

Fiyero's brow furrowed confusedly and Elphaba shrugged. "Let me study what I like, and eventually I'll realise that no one in Munchkinland will hire me, and then I'll happily take care of Nessa because I'll have no other choice. And I'd be grateful."

Fiyero winced.

"So, you can imagine how pleased my father was when I had a job lined up before graduation."

"Ah. Not very, I'm guessing."

"Nope. But I had good grades, and I got good reviews on my placements. My supervisor at my final placement was about to move to Munchkinland, and she offered me a job. And I took it."

Fiyero launched to his feet, pacing before her restlessly. "Elphaba," he said tightly. "Please tell me that your father didn't kick you out because you took the job?"

Elphaba looked up at him, feeling rather calm. "No," she replied.

Fiyero's shoulders visibly eased, and something in Elphaba's chest melted at the sight of it.

"Everything was okay for a while. I put in the work, kept my head down. Nessa met Burkhard which meant she was distracted and happy."

"What's he like?"

Elphaba paused, considering her words carefully. "He's a very serious person," she said slowly. "He's older too- he was thirty-three when he and Nessa met, and she was twenty-two. He was always very polite to me, but he doesn't like me. Which is fine, because I don't like him either. But my father loves him, which says a lot. I always got the sense that Burkhard became a doctor for the status, not because he's particularly passionate about medicine. But he's very good to Nessa, which I suppose it all that matters. Once they started dating, he found her a nurse that she actually likes, and after they were married he does a lot of the care for her himself."

"Anyway, once Nessa had Burkhard, she didn't need me as much, which meant my father didn't care so much what I did. They got engaged around the time Galinda moved to Munchkinland to be with Boq, so I got to move out of home and moved in with her. I even thought it might be okay if I left Munchkinland; but I had Galinda and Boq there, and Nessa got married and then had Emeril. Being in Munchkinland wasn't so bad for once."

"Then what changed?"

Elphaba took a deep breath and released it slowly. "What do you know?"

It was the answer she'd been dreading the most. How much of her past had Fiyero already known when they'd met? Had their friendship formed out of pity?

"Not much," Fiyero reassured her, coming to sit beside her again. "Just that there was an investigation happening against your father. I didn't really follow the story, because well… Munchkinland is like, all the way over there and I had other stuff going on," he said apologetically.

Elphaba snorted.

"After we met, I remembered the story vaguely. But I figured it would be rude to look you up on inQAit. It's your life."

When Elphaba paused, Fiyero elbowed her gently in the side.

"So? How did you end up here? Well, the Emerald City. You know what I mean."

Elphaba made a face. "I got an award," she said in distaste.

Fiyero laughed. "From the look on your face, I'm guessing it was Most Vibrant Shade of Green?" he asked her teasingly. "What award could possibly be so offensive?"

Elphaba averted her gaze uncomfortably. "Children's Social Worker of the Year."

Her cheeks grew warm as Fiyero lowly whistled. "You haven't mentioned that, Miss Thropp!"

Elphaba waved a gloved hand dismissively. "It's not a big deal. It's just some little trophy."

It wasn't even on her desk at work, it was stuffed into the back of a drawer. And any achievement in earning it initially had been tarnished by the events that followed.

"After the ceremony, there was an interview with The Munchkinland Post," Elphaba explained. "And they asked what got me into social work. What inspired me to make this my career."

"And you said?"

"I don't remember exactly," Elphaba admitted with a frown.

She'd spent every moment for months afterwards trying to remember her exact words, but to no avail. She hadn't been expecting to win, and having to face the press had blindsided her. In the adrenaline of the moment, the whole memory of the event had vanished.

"I said something about wanting to give a voice to kids who needed one. Maybe the ones who slipped through the cracks, because from the outside everything looks fine. Kids like me."

The bird nearby was still singing, and Elphaba leaned her head back, trying to spot it. No luck.

"I don't remember how much of it I actually said. Or how much was misquoted," she shrugged. "But it was in The Post and then it was all over the internet and then the news channels… and then it was all over Oz."

Fiyero took her hand silently, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"My father wanted me to put out a statement that I was misquoted, that my childhood was great. When I refused, it became a whole thing. I was trying to sabotage his career; I was trying to ruin the family reputation; how could I do this to Nessarose, et cetera, et cetera. I mean, I thought that I'd ruined the family reputation by being born, but turns out I was biding my time."

"And Nessa?"

Elphaba scoffed. That part remained crystal clear in her mind. She pulled her hand from Fiyero's grasp and rose to her feet, crossing to the opposite side of the gazebo and staring out over the snow-covered playground.

"She came to me and asked if there was a chance I was misremembering our childhood. She said that these stories in the media were hurting the family, and it would be better for everyone if this all went away. When I refused again, it was decided that it would be better if I took some time away. To 'reflect and regain perspective on the past.'"

Fiyero said nothing, which Elphaba had rather expected. When she got up the courage to turn around and face him, she was prepared for pity. For sadness. For the awkwardness as he tried to find the words to respond to her tale. She honestly wasn't expecting the anger.

"Did you get a say in this?" Fiyero demanded.

"Of course," Elphaba answered, with a calmness she didn't feel. "My father didn't exile me from Munchkinland, Yero," she reassured him. "Just from the family. It was my choice to leave the province."

Fiyero's lips thinned and she shrugged. "Do you know the most ironic thing about it all?"

Fiyero eyed her warily. "Oh, Oz. Do I want to know?"

Elphaba huffed out a laugh. "There was a time when I was about fourteen, and Nessa was between aides. She had the flu, and my father left it up to me to take care of her. Plus I had exams coming up, and ended up getting the flu myself. I wasn't allowed to miss school, and I ended up kind of having a meltdown one day in my English class. My teacher took me outside and asked if I was okay. And I just… told her. That I was sick, and exhausted and I needed a break from everything. She reported it- she had to. Mandatory reporting."

"What happened?"

"Nothing. Someone checked on us. My father told them that I was just sick and too stressed about exams, and by the time the new semester started, I'd be fine."

Fiyero's face darkened. "And that was it? They believed him?"

"He's the Governor. Why wouldn't they?" Elphaba retorted. "But once the story hit the press, some reporter dug it up. They didn't have details, but it was on record that there'd been an 'inquiry.' My father sued the paper."

Fiyero had that look on his face. The look that said he had many questions. Probably many of them were questions Elphaba had asked herself over the years, but she had no answers for. And while they remained perfectly valid questions, Elphaba didn't want to dwell on them right now, so she brushed past them before Fiyero could voice any of them.

"That's pretty much it," she shrugged. "I moved to the Emerald City as soon as I could find a job. Eventually met you, and here we are."

Fiyero's jaw was tight, and his nostrils flared.

"Elphaba," he said, his voice shaking slightly. "Your sister tried to gaslight you."

"I know," Elphaba admitted freely. "Part of me wants to argue that she's a victim just as much as I am. My father has no real love for me, and like I said, Burkhard isn't my biggest fan either. I don't know how much he's involved with Nessa not wanting to speak to me. And then I get ignored for months, and suddenly I get a Lurlinemas card. Or a 'you too' text. And I don't know if she actually gives a damn, or if this is just guilt-tripping. 'This is all the stuff you could be here for if you just admit that you were wrong.'"

There was a flutter of movement in her peripheral vision, and Elphaba turned her head to see a bird land on the railing near her. Elphaba inhaled the cold air slowly, watching the bird hop around lightly until he made eye contact with Elphaba and paused, tilting his head quizzically. For some reason, the little bird made a lump swell in Elphaba's throat and her eyes stung in a way she couldn't blame on the cold.

The wooden floorboards behind her creaked and Elphaba turned just in time for Fiyero to pull her into a tight hug. Elphaba tensed instinctively for a moment, before her hands awkwardly came up to grasp the back of his coat.

"I'm really sorry, Fae," Fiyero said quietly. "I'm sorry about it all. But I'm also really glad that I know you."

Elphaba's eyes blurred with tears and she pulled away self-consciously, chuckling slightly. "Well, yeah. Otherwise you would have had to ask Corin to be your fake girlfriend."

Fiyero snorted.

"You know, if I haven't reminded you recently, I owe you forever."

Elphaba smiled weakly. "I'm making a list of favours."

Fiyero grinned back at her and then sobered. "Are you going to reply to Nessarose?"

Elphaba went to reach for her phone instinctively, but it was still in Fiyero's pocket. Not that she needed it in hand to re-read Nessa's text anyway.

You too.

"No," she said quietly. "There's nothing I can say to that, anyway."

"What do you need?" Fiyero asked solemnly.

Elphaba let out a slow sigh. "I… I need a distraction. And some chocolate."

Fiyero's face brightened. "Lucky for you, I know where Grams hides her chocolate stash," he grinned, offering her his arm.

Elphaba chuckled, and took it with a smile.